


A Pact With God

by initiation_day



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/initiation_day/pseuds/initiation_day
Summary: Cosimo stared at the list of guests that had been placed on his desk. He recognised his wife’s slanted, neat handwriting. He had been staring at the list for nearly 10 minutes, but it was one name in particular that had caught his attention: Ezio Contarini.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote it, posted it and have not proofread it. I'm posting this with full knowledge that I'm going to find an error tomorrow, and it will annoy me but for now, enjoy.

Cosimo stared at the list of guests that had been placed on his desk. He recognised his wife’s slanted, neat handwriting. He had been staring at the list for nearly 10 minutes, but it was one name in particular that had caught his attention: Ezio Contarini. To celebrate the birth of his grandson Cosimo had decided to throw a ball. Even Piero thought the idea an excellent one, despite his retiring ways. Little Lorenzo, as Cosimo had taken to calling him, was the future of the Medici family, and everyone ought to be reminded of the strength of their family. Whilst occupied with bank affairs, he had tasked Contessina with most of the planning. She had been the one to compile the guest list and she had been the one to add _his_ name. His irritation grew the longer he considered Contarini. Contarini had pursued his wife; indeed he had almost succeeded. Not once, but twice. Cosimo had grown accustomed to attempts to disrupt his bank and his position in Florence, but to have someone disrupt his family? To steal away his most loyal and trusted companion? To have courted her whilst he was away, in exile, was an affront. He made up his mind; it would be an insult to entertain a man who plotted to destroy his marriage.

Cosimo found Contessina in the garden with Carlo. He took almost entirely after Cosimo, save for his eyes. He had Maddalena’s eyes. To ensure that as little questions would be asked regarding the child, Contessina had moved to their estates outside the city with Lucrezia, Emilia and Maddalena. There they stayed until the birth of Carlo. Cosimo had seen the toll it had taken on Contessina to support Maddalena through this period. A tightness around her mouth; eyes that often appeared glassy with tears. Yet, even as she watched his mistress give birth to a child that would forever remind her of his indiscretion, Contessina had stroked Maddalena’s head, and held her hand.

Now, standing a little way away from them, he listened as Contessina quietly sang to the squirming baby in her arms, and felt an onslaught of shame. He had come to scold and shame Contessina for extending an invitation to a man she had refused, whilst she cared for his illegitimate child. A product of his adultery. How many times must he be reminded that she was a better woman than he a man.   
“Cosimo, have you come to see me?” Contessina had stopped singing and was now looking up at him. Cosimo roused himself from his thoughts and moved towards his wife and child. Carlo was now sound asleep.   
“Indeed I have! I approve of the intended guests. I shall have the invitations sent directly.”   
Contessina peered at him closely with her bright, green eyes. Cosimo knew she was searching for something in his face.   
“You approve of _all_ the guests?” She asked pointedly. Cosimo placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and felt Contessina relax into him.   
“Yes. I have no reason to doubt your judgment Contessina.”

*

Cosimo stood by the large window as his guests engaged in merriment around him. In the centre of the room, Piero and Lucrezia received congratulations from various nobles with delight; proudly describing their little Lorenzo.  
“He is the sweetest little creature I have ever beheld!” Lucrezia gushed, whilst Piero described his plans to teach Lorenzo the banking business when he became older. Cosimo smiled indulgently. They deserved this happiness. He was prodigiously proud of them both. Piero had proven his capability when he had convinced the Signoria to vote in favour of the tax to protect Rome. Lucrezia had surpassed many of his expectations. She had come from a family of exiled nobles, and in truth he had never _much_ hopes from her bar her noble blood, yet she had proven herself to be a pillar of strength and support for his son, and a friend and confidante for his wife when she had none. Cosimo felt a wave of guilt lap at his consciousness when he remembered the reason that his wife had needed Lucrezia’s friendship – she had not found it with him. His eyes scanned the crowd for Contessina and found her amongst the throng of shameless nobles; flattering her every move. Now that the Medici were powerful again, those that had slighted her for marrying beneath her station sought her favour. Cosimo knew she would find their ever-shifting allegiance distasteful – she who had been so steadfast in her own- yet there was no sign in her comportment that alluded to her true feelings. She smiled graciously and received their ingenious flattery with politesse.

She looked particularly alluring tonight. Her emerald green gown, specially tailored for tonight, clung to the precipice of her shoulders, exposing the creamy skin of her neck and the swell of her breasts. The gown only highlighted her pleasing figure: her slim wait and shapely behind. Madonna Alberti tittered away beside her, and whilst Contessina appeared interested and engaged, Cosimo could see that she was indeed, very unengaged. Contessina’s eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. Cosimo was happy to oblige. He strode across the room but before he had reached his wife he was waylaid by the clearing of a throat behind him. To his dismay it was Pazzi.   
“Messer Medici, what a delightful party you have thrown,” Pazzi complimented. He had never quite forgiven Cosimo for dashing his hopes to take power in Florence, nor for ending his goodwill with his Holiness, the Pope. Cosimo graciously thanked Pazzi for attending, eager to end the conversation and find his wife.   
“Yes,” Pazzi continued, “the food, music, wine and company have all been exquisite tonight. Please pass on my compliments to your lovely wife…” Pazzi trailed off and raised an eyebrow at something behind Cosimo. “Or perhaps I should ask Contarini to, after all he seems very acquainted with her.”   
Cosimo whipped around to where he had last seen Contessina. It seemed that in the few minutes he had been occupied with Pazzi, Contarini had taken up residence beside his wife. Cosimo felt a spark of anger at the sight of Contarini’s hand on Contessina’s arm, and his lips so close to her ear. For her part, Contessina wore the same polite mask she wore with everyone, yet this did not assuage Cosimo’s anger. She was _his_ , and _his_ alone. He would not stand by idly and watch some jilted lover whisper sweet nothings in his wife’s ear.   
“Contessina is an excellent host yet I have been quite derelict in my duties. I ought to join her.” Cosimo intoned. Pazzi’s lips curled in a cruel smile, thrilled to have aggravated the man who had been the cause of his demise, and disappeared back into the crowd from whence he came, leaving Cosimo to approach his wife and the interloper.

 “Contessina, there you are” he said by way of introduction. Contessina turned to him with what Cosimo hoped was a relieved smile and moved towards him. He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head. His open affection was a clear challenge to Contarini. “Cosimo, my love, I was just thanking Ezio for his company tonight.” Contessina said calmly. Her endearment mollified his anger somewhat.   
“Ah yes, your desire to celebrate _our_ grandson’s child is appreciated. I assure you.” Cosimo added. Ezio smiled benignly at Cosimo, “I was just telling Contessina that she hardly looks old enough to have a grandson.”   
Cosimo gritted his teeth at the way Contarini called her by ‘Contessina’ rather than Madonna Medici, as would have been appropriate for their respective stations. It showed an intimacy that he did not approve of. Contessina used Cosimo’s moment of silence to try and smooth over the tension that was building.   
“Cosimo and I were lucky to have Piero early into our marriage, and Piero is the same. God has been gracious. We’ve recently welcomed Carlo into the family as well. It is my dearest wish that he and Lorenzo become best of friends”  
Contarini’s face fell a fraction. He had not heard the news then, and better yet, he had not heard the rumours circulating regarding the boy’s real parentage. Cosimo felt a savage kind of triumph at this. Yes, his family was growing. His legacy and dynasty was growing and Contarini was still pining after a woman he had lost long ago. After a pause, Contarini met Cosimo’s eyes for the first time that night. They glittered with heartbreak, and - Cosimo was surprised to see – hatred.

“Contessina, do you remember the last time we met?” Cantrini began, but he spoke solely to Cosimo now. Had Cosimo looked, he would have seen the quiet despair creep into his wife’s features, but he was too occupied with beating his adversary into submission. “You kissed me so passionately, I was sure your husband had not visited your bedchambers in a good while.” Contarini taunted in a low voice, infused with malice. Contessina gasped, and her face lost all colour. However, Cosimo felt white, hot anger course through his veins, and within seconds he had Contarini pinned against a pillar; Cosimo’s arm against his neck.   
“Cosimo please, control yourself!” Contessina implored but it was to no avail, Cosimo was too far gone. Contessina stared around the room wildly, praying that no one was watching.   
“How dare you insult me and my wife in this manner in our own house” Cosimo snarled. Contarini let out a strangled laugh, unafraid of Cosimo.   
“She’s only your wife because she had no choice. I was her first love, her first kiss, her first fu—”  
Cosimo’s fist connected with Contarini’s cheek with a satisfying thud.   
“Cosimo!” Contessina shrieked, pulling him off Contarini. Contarini slid to the floor, clutching his cheek; a purple bruise already blossoming. Cosimo stood over him, his flaming anger turning into cold fury. Contessina stood behind him, ashen faced and a small but firm hand restraining Cosimo.   
“You are no longer welcome in my house.” Cosimo ordered frostily, “You will also refrain from contacting my wife henceforth.” With one last disdainful look, Cosimo turned on his heel and stalked off, Contessina in tow.

**

With Cosimo’s vicelike grip on her hand, Contessina had little choice but to follow him from the party and up to his chambers. When they were safely ensconced in his chamber, he grabbed a flask of wine from the nearest console and threw it against the wall with a frustrated yell. Contessina sat on the edge of his bed, burying her face in her hands.   
“The nerve of Contarini! To insult me in my own home! To make such disgusting insinuations against you!” He snarled, watching the wine drip down the wall.   
“Cosimo…” Contessina muttered wearily. She felt exhaustion settle deep within her. She was so tired of conflict. Cosimo narrowed his eyes; her refusal to condemn the man who had put her honour and virtue to question rankled. He wanted to provoke her, make her as angry as him. Cosimo knew that if he spoke now, he would regret it; knew that his anger at Contarini was clouding his judgment, yet he found his mouth moving on it’s own accord.   
“And why are you protecting him now? Is it because his words are true?” he accused sharply. Contessina moved from the bed so quickly that Cosimo had no time to react before her hand struck his cheek.

Contessina’s slap resounded around the room, the ringing bouncing off the stone walls. She stood before Cosimo, shaking with rage, sadness and a mix of emotions that Cosimo could not identify. His hand flew to his cheek as the blood rushed to the area her palm had made contact with. It felt warm. Contessina glared at him defiantly. Daring him to punish her for her actions but all Cosimo felt was shame. The slap had snuffed his anger at Contarini, and the irrational anger against his wife.   
“I have given up everything for you. I agreed to raise your bastard, illegitimate son, yet nonetheless you feel that you have the right to question my honour.” Contessina spat, “to believe the words spoken by a hurt and scorned man over your own wife? Nothing Ezio has said tonight has hurt me more than your continuing lack of faith in me.”  
Her green eyes were glassy with tears, and her fists were balled at her side. Cosimo slowly lowered his hand from his face, his eyes never leaving hers.   
“I apologise” he said in a low voice. He raised a hand cautiously to her face and cupped her cheek, watching as a tear rolled down. She flinched at the touch and turned away, her shoulders beginning to shake. Cosimo approached her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.    
“Contessina, I am truly sorry.” He murmured into her hair. He heard her breathing shorten into quick, sharp gasps yet still she said nothing. “I love you” he whispered, kissing her jaw. In response, Contessina whirled around and buried her face in his chest as she started sobbed. She clenched the back of his tunic desperately, trying to find something to hold onto. Cosimo swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed, pressing kisses to her head and whispering apologies. Laying her down gently, he climbed in beside her and held her as she shed all the tears she had withheld throughout their marriage.

***

Cosimo awoke before Contessina. His limbs felt stiff from sleeping in such an unusual position. Contessina lay curled towards him, her dark hair splayed out on the bed behind her. Even in her sleep, there was a small crease between her eyes, as though she were frowning in her dreams. He could not be sure when it was they both fell asleep; Contessina had cried until her tears had been spent, and after that, she had drawn deep, shuddering breaths that had wracked her slight frame. After having convinced her to take water and a sip of wine, Cosimo had gently undressed her, and himself and carefully tucked her into bed. He had stroked her hair until sleep eventually took her. Whilst he waited for his own release from that night’s events, he made a pact with God. He would be a better husband and man for Contessina. Never again would he be the cause of her despair. Seeing her break before him had unravelled Cosimo in a way he had not expected. He wanted to protect her and put back the pieces of her heart. Help make her whole again. Cosimo loved his wife. It had taken an illegitimate child, Ezio Contarini’s vulgarities, and her tears to show him, but nevertheless it was true.   
“Cosimo” Contessina breathed, she was looking at him through red, swollen eyes. Cosimo rolled onto his back and patted his chest, inviting her to rest her head there. Contessina complied wordlessly, relishing in the closeness and affection.

“I have behaved so badly Contessina.” Cosimo began with a sigh, “Not only last night with Contarini, but almost every night since we have been married.”   
Contessina said nothing, allowing him to continue. “You have borne my cruelties with much more grace than I could have imagined possible. I must tell you now, I value you, I trust you, and I love you.”   
A small smile crept across her face, lighting up her lovely, green eyes.   
“I love you Cosimo. I forgive you” she said warmly. Cosimo returned her smile and with his pledge in mind, he turned his attentions to her creamy, bare shoulders that had been teasing him since last night.

****

_Fin_  


End file.
